


The Handsome Duke

by Natalie_2020



Category: 15th Century CE RPF, The Hollow Crown RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, France (Country), Love/Hate, M/M, Middle Ages, Prisoner of War, Rape, The Hundread Years War, Vaginal Sex, Violence, War, dub con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:26:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29205834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natalie_2020/pseuds/Natalie_2020
Summary: To be deprived of everything when you were barely sixteen, when you are strong, brave and handsome, and ahead of you lies a life full of military victories, adventures, love ... But, all dreams went to dust in an instant, when the young Duke Jean of Alencon, who participated in the second battle of his life, was captivated by his worst enemy. The one whom he hated, whose brother destroyed his father and deprived him of his ancestral duchy. Will young Jean have the strength and courage to endure this test?I apologize for any mistakes in the text, as English is not my native language. I post the fic in translation. I would be very grateful for any feedback :)
Relationships: John of Lancaster 1 st Duke of Bedford / Jean of Alencon
Comments: 2





	1. The winner takes it all

**Author's Note:**

  * For [To all readers](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=To+all+readers).



> "... the young spouse, covered with glory, at the head of his victorious army, after the invariable thanksgiving mass in the Cathedral of Rouen, again hastened to his young wife, as an unexpected guest, taking with him a prisoner - the young Duke Jean of Alencon, who came to him in hands during the same ill-fated battle. According to the chronicler Wovren, who was personally observing this scene, Bedford told his wife: “My dear, this is your cousin of Alencon, our prisoner,” after which the hospitable duchess “answered him that I am very glad to see him, after which she hugged him and kissed him. " - information from the book on the historical site.  
> 1) John Bedford is the younger brother of the dead English King Henry V and regent to his son, the young King Henry VI. Supervised the trial of Joan of Arc in Rouen, having achieved her being burned alive.  
> 2) Jean II d'Alencon, 2nd Duke d'Alencon is a relative of the Dauphin of France Charles (future King Charles VII), from the Valois-Alencon dynasty. He was one of the closest associates of Joan of Arc, whom she greatly appreciated for her bravery and courage. He had the nickname "The Handsome Duke", most likely for his beauty.

-And there you are, lovely young duke. The Lord sent me good luck, now in my power not only the lands that were yours but you, - these words, uttered in a mocking tone, Jean, still a very young, sixteen-year-old Duke of Alencon, heard, as if in a fog. The battle near the French city of Verneuil was in full swing, the clinking of swords of knights converging in a fierce battle, the whistle of arrows, the desperate whine of frightened horses, and the death rattles of their masters slain with a sword or arrow could be heard around. French knights and soldiers fought bravely, demonstrating their determination to stand to the end, not surrender to the mercy of the victor, perish, but not shame the dignity of the French army. To be honest, in this situation it was very difficult and required a lot of courage, desperate courage. After all, the British army, under the command of a thirty-five-year-old, very experienced military leader, was decisively victorious, crowding out the fairly thinned ranks of the French. Jean Alencon fought bravely, even though it was only the second battle in his short life. He will stand to the death, will not dishonor the name of his father - Duke Jean I the Wise d'Alanson, will prove to him that he is his worthy son, would rather die on the battlefield, but will not surrender or retreat. After all, his father was looking at him ... Yes, young Jean believed that his father was looking at him from heaven, that he saw and knew everything, saw how he fought, how cleverly he wielded the sword, how confidently he was in the saddle. Let the late father know that his lessons were not in vain, that Jean learned them well. Let him be proud of him, there, in heaven, in the eternal bliss of the kingdom of heaven. Jean knew perfectly well who had sent him there, before the end of his father's earthly life. Duke Jean the Wise was still young and full of strength when he was killed in the famous battle of Agincourt. In that bloody massacre, many glorious knights were killed, almost all the flower of the French nobility was destroyed on this sad and mournful day for France. Descendants will surely remember this day forever, never forget and forgive. They will not forgive the mean and cruel invaders, their ruthless leader. The English king Henry V, who deservedly received the laurels of the winner at Agincourt, was not satisfied with his unconditional victory. The rivers of blood spilled were not enough for him, and he ordered to destroy all his captives, leaving no one alive, not allowing anyone to redeem himself, thereby trampling all the laws of knightly honor. Jean had heard that his father wanted to surrender before he was taken of his life, but he did not want to believe it. Surrender to the damned invaders ?! His brave father would never have done that! Better to die than surrender to the bastard Henry. King Henry was truly an insatiable monster for whom everything was not enough. He not only deprived the little, then eight-year-old Jean, his adored father, but also all the hereditary possessions and the patrimonial duchy of Alencon, which he was entitled to, giving it to his younger and most beloved brother, John of Lancaster, Duke of Bedford. The widow of Duke Jean the Wise d'Alanson, together with her little son, were forced to flee under the protection of a relative of her dead husband, Dauphin Charles, who was also quite young at that time, and who was also not in the best position due to the defeats of the French army in battles with the British. But Charlot, as the Dauphine's friends and relatives called, received Marie D'Alencon and her charming son warmly and cordially, provided the boy with all kinds of patronage, in some ways even replaced his father and older brother. Although, frankly speaking, Jeanne's father could never be replaced by anyone. A carefree childhood ended for him the day he learned of his death. Rather, about his murder ... His murder by his worst enemies - the British, vile invaders. Because of them, he lost his father, whom he loved so much. He also lost his home, he and his mother had to flee from the ancestral castle, since it no longer belonged to them. It belonged to Lord Bedford, brother of the king of England ...

  
\- Why does this Lord Bedford need our castle? I don`t want to leave! I do not want to. This is MY house, I got it from my dad! I will not leave, I will not leave! I will not go! - little Jean sincerely did not understand why some Bedford would own HIS castle and HIS lands? He loves their spacious castle, his room, loves to play in the garden with the servant children. And now these vile British will come and take away everything dear to him.  
\- Son, my boy, I beg you, do not be stubborn, - Marie D'Alencon could hardly hold back her tears, - We need to hurry, we have very little time. If Lord Bedford shows up here before we can leave, we may become his prisoners. Then our fate will be terrible. This is the will of the Lord, he sent us a test. We can handle it, right? Are we strong? You are already a big boy, you are strong and brave, like your father. Now you will protect me, my little knight. But, you still need to learn a lot to become a brave warrior like your father was. The time will come, and we will defeat them all, by all means, just be patient. And now we need to go to a safe place, you will be fine there, - Marie forced herself to smile.  
\- Where are we going, mom? - Jean felt tears welling up in his eyes. He did not want to cry, did not want to, but tears involuntarily rolled down his baby cheeks.  
\- We will go to your cousin - Dauphin Сharles. He is already waiting for us and will be glad to receive it. We'll be safe there. You will make friends, I'm sure. Charlot is also very young and will gladly help you with your studies. You will train together with a sword, ride a horse, - Marie gently stroked Jean's head and hugged him tightly, - Don't cry, Jeannot, don't cry, my boy. I know, I feel that everything will be fine. France will become free, it will happen, the Lord will not leave us, - Marie felt it, but she did not know exactly when it would happen.  
\- I will never, never cry again! I will be like dad. I am now Duke d'Alencon. They'll give us everything back, Mom. Damn British! - Jean felt a new, completely unfamiliar feeling rises in him. He was still too young to fully realize, that the name of this feeling is hatred.

  
\- Glorious gain ... This is a wonderful gift, the castle is light, comfortable and spacious. Thank you, Hal! May the Lord keep you! - John Bedford pressed his lips to the hand of his royal elder brother - His Majesty, the English king Henry V, Lancaster, who bestowed upon him the Duchy of Alencon with castles and fertile lands.  
\- Come on, Johnny, come on without these stupid ceremonies, you know that I do not like it. Nobody sees us now. You also know that I do not regret anything for you, - Heinrich pulled his brother to him and hugged him. Heinrich and John had been close since early childhood, inseparable comrades in children's games and pranks, now they stood shoulder to shoulder on the battlefield. And they won. Now France belongs to them. Henry was sure that it belonged to them by right, that he had all the rights to the French crown since his ancestors were related to the representatives of the French royal dynasty of the Capetian. Can this justify the bloody massacre of the conquered people? Quite if they do not want to obey their rightful king, and Henry sincerely believed that he must unite England and France under his crown. He must be the king of two powers, and he will be! Nobody will bother him, and whoever is a hindrance, he will cruelly deal with that — has the right. Fortunately, he has someone to rely on. Henry could always count on his brothers, especially John. And he will not remain in debt to his younger brother; with his devotion and impeccable service, John earned land and titles in the country that the king conquered with his help. The Duchy of Alencon abounded with fertile lands and beautiful castles. So why not give your beloved brother a present? Duke Jean I d'Alencon was killed at Agincourt, leaving a beautiful widow and a young son - his heir. Former heir. The winner takes it all. And they won, and John will own the Duchy of Alencon by right. This world is cruel to the vanquished, so it is so pleasing to God. But ... after all, this boy will not always be a child, he will grow up, and maybe he will want to reclaim the lands that belonged to his father?  
\- It's a pity that we did not find the inconsolable widow with a puppy here, - John seemed to have read his brother's thoughts, - They managed to escape to this so-called dauphin. They say Marie D'Alencon is a beauty, - John sneered slyly.  
\- Aren't you ashamed, brother? You are an inveterate sinner! - Heinrich laughed and shoved his brother a little in the shoulder, - What are you just thinking?  
\- I think it would be better if Marie D'Alencon and her puppy were my captives, - John replied, already seriously, frowning a little.  
\- I must admit, I also thought about it, but the bird and the chick flew out of the cage. We are late. Be that as it may, neither the widow, nor the boy, nor this worthless Dauphin Сharles poses any danger.  
\- You're right, Hal. There will be no harm from them, besides, the French are cowards, let them sit in their holes, - John went to a beautifully carved table by the window in one of the rooms of the castle in which they were. A drawing on it caught his attention. The drawing depicted a boy of about eight years old, dressed in an elegant purple embroidered with gold thread. John took it in his hands and looked closely into the boy's face. He probably has never seen such beautiful children - big eyes, delicate features, beautifully outlined lips. “It seems that this is the heir of Alençon,” - flashed through his head, “If so, then I’m very sorry that you didn’t get to me, boy ... But I may still get to you if it is the will of God ", - naturally, John did not express his thoughts out loud ...


	2. Between life and death

The fog obscured the eyes, the neighing of horses, the screams of the wounded, the clash of colliding swords - everything turned into one continuous, indistinguishable rumble, coming as if from afar. Young Jean, Duke of Alençon felt that he was losing consciousness ... His faithful horse was shot with a bolt from a crossbow - a wild whinnying, and the horse began to fall to one side, his eyes darkened with pain, his comrade realized that his days were numbered, and he would no longer help to his good master, - Pegasus? Lord, what's wrong with you ?! Did they hit you ?! - Jean tried to keep his balance, but in heavy armor, it was very difficult, because he was still too young and fragile, his strength was not yet great enough. Pegasus's legs gave way, and Jean, unable to resist, and not having time to jump off the dying horse, fell on his back to the ground. Feeling a strong blow in the back of his head, he realized that, most likely, he hit his head on a stone, and if it were not for the bascinet *, then the blow would most likely be fatal. Jeane tried to get up but did not succeed, his body did not obey, the armor was fettered with a heavy load, his head was spinning. Nearby was heard the death rattle of Pegasus, - Scoundrels ... They will pay for everything ... they will pay ... - Jean loved his horse very much, and he answered him in kind. The black horse Pegasus was a gift from Charlot, his cousin, the Dauphin of France, and the rightful heir to the throne. It was he who was the legitimate heir, and not the young Henry VI, the son of Henry V., who died of dysentery (although this pleased Jean). The scoundrel Bedford can cheat the law as much as he wants, considering himself regent under the “king of England and France,” but God sees everything, he will punish the invaders. Sooner or later, but the time will come ... Jean involuntarily closed his eyes, the strength remained less and less, - "Lord, forgive me my sins, if I am destined to die, let me die with honor" - he was not afraid of death, to die on the battlefield, protecting his homeland from hated enemies - could there be a more honorable death for a knight? After fighting to the last drop of blood. He will soon meet with his father and will be able to hug him and say how much he missed him.  
\- Daddy ... - Jean whispered, feeling his eyelids heavy.

\- What is it there? Whose horse? And what kind of a knight is lying next to? Is he alive? Come and see, move on! - John Bedford shouted at his squire. John of Lancaster, Duke of Bedford - commander of the English army, regent under the boy-king Henry VI, son of the dead Henry V. This thirty-five-year-old man with large gray eyes and сorrect, chiseled features could be called handsome, if his eyes were not cold, like ice, and the expression on his face would not be so hard. John Bedford rarely felt sorry for anyone, in this he was like his brother, the dead King Henry V. He also did not choose the means to achieve his goals. But milord Bedford was a skilled warrior and a good strategist, which enabled him to win one victory after another. His name instilled fear in ordinary French soldiers, English soldiers and knights respected him, but they were also very afraid of their commander, in the English army, unlike the French, iron discipline reigned.  
\- Your Grace, the coat of arms of the Duke of Alencon is embroidered on the horse's blanket ... - John Bedford's squire was embarrassed, he knew that the Duchy of Alencon was owned by his master, and the young heir was deprived of his ancestral castle and lands.  
"The Duke of Alencon ... a boy who escaped with his mother under the protection of Dauphin Charles" - John recalled a conversation with his brother, while they were examining the Alencon castle, a drawing on a small carved table ... big green eyes and thin features like an angel. He took this drawing and kept it.  
\- What about the knight? Is he alive? Did you have the mind to check?!  
\- He is, my lord. But ... he seems to be very weak. He is quite young, Your Grace, not more than eighteen years old, by the appearance. - The squire realized this as he lifted the visor of Jean's helmet.  
\- I'll take a look at him, - John spurred his horse and rode up to Jean lying on the ground. Deftly jumping to the ground, he bent over the young man, peered into his face, and saw familiar features - the same delicate features as in the drawing, as if they were sculpted by a sculptor from ancient times, still retaining childish tenderness. Suddenly the young man opened his closed eyes, and John realized that these eyes were familiar to him. The dukes of Alencon found a very skillful painter, which was a great rarity, he accurately conveyed the beauty and charm of their son.  
“Well, boy, I still got to you ... So it was the will of God. Now you belong to me." - John straightened and crossed his arms over his chest. This young man was his most valuable trophy in the last battle. On the seventeenth of August 1424, the British won a brilliant victory over the French army at Verneau. Mylord Bedford could be rightfully proud of it, and the handsome Duke of Alencon should be considered a reward for valor and courage in battle. He deserved it, and his brother would have approved of his act.

With difficulty opening his eyes, Jean realized that he was still lying on the ground, it seemed to him that the noise of the battle had died down. "Whose Victory?" - flashed through my head, although he already had a presentiment of the bitter answer to this question. Focusing on looking, Jean saw that some English knight towered over him, he stood very close and looked at him, crossing his arms on his chest, narrowing his cold gray eyes slightly. "Who is he?" - Jean thought, he was now unable to make out the heraldic signs.  
\- And there you are, lovely young duke. The Lord sent me good luck, now in my power not only the lands that were yours but you, - said the knight in a mocking tone.  
\- Who... you are? - For the second time Jean felt that the earth was leaving from under his feet, he seemed to be falling into the abyss.  
\- I am John of Lancaster, Duke of Bedford, - the knight introduced himself.  
"Bedford ..." - The one who took over his home, the one who robbed him of everything, whose brother humiliated his father, the one he hated so much! - "To die by his hand, not having time to take revenge" - Jean thought bitterly, - "But if I am destined to die now, then I will die with dignity!" - Jean felt a surge of strength, annoyance and hatred gave him it.  
\- Damn you, John Bedford. May your family be damned, your nephew ... Damn you all, all Lancaster. I hate you ... I am not afraid of death, I wish it ... I will finally see my father, whom you have deprived me, - Jean thought that these words took away his last strength, but he did not regret what he said. Now he can die in peace.  
\- Do you wish to die the death of a hero, my young friend? - John chuckled, - How are you not like your father, he was ready to surrender to us.  
\- You're lying, you bastard! - the unflattering mention of his father painfully pricked Jean, - Better to die the most painful death than surrender to you!  
\- Well kid, it's your right to think that way, but from now, you will keep your opinion to yourself. You will speak only when you are allowed. When I allow you. From this very minute, you belong to me. Only I will decide whether you live or die. And now I want you to live. Now you are my prisoner, - John's eyes burned with a strange fire as if a flame had flared up from the ice. Usually gray and cold, they now glowed. Jean could not understand what this look meant, but it frightened, disturbed, and ... worried him? Why is this rascal looking at him like that? He wants to take him, prisoner. No, just not that! Jean will not survive such a shame, he would have preferred death, but not captivity. To be at the mercy of the enemy? Nothing more terrible can be imagined!  
\- No Please! Kill me, Bedford, with the cruelest execution! - Jean was in despair. He again felt that his strength was leaving him, his eyes darkened, and his body seemed to be filled with lead.  
\- The cruelest execution ... My dear. If you knew what executions I prefer to subject my enemies too, you would be silent. My brave, stupid boy, - John's voice warmed.  
\- Please ... - Jean whispered with the last bit of strength.  
\- Hush, kid, hush. Calm down, - the last words of John, Jean almost did not hear, closing his eyes, he fell into darkness...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bascinet is a kind of helmet dome of the XIV-XV centuries.


	3. Heaven can wait

Muffled voices, a soft pillow under his head, a lightness in his body - heavy armor as if it were no longer there...  
\- He will live, Your Grace. The young Duke's life is not in danger. The blow was not fatal, My Lord.  
\- Here, this is for your hard work. You may go.  
\- Thank you, Your Grace, God bless you. You can send it to me at any time.  
\- Of course, I can. Get out.  
\- Excuse me, Your Grace. May I see the other wounded prisoners?  
\- I'm not interested in the others. You'd better attend to our knights. Hurry up!  
\- Yes, my lord.

The young Duke, Jean of Alencon, could not understand the meaning of the dialogue he heard, which seemed to be spoken in English. This language Jean did not know, not only that, he hated it with all his soul, hated the people for whom this language was a native tongue. The English...they had taken everything from him. But, one of the men's voices seemed familiar to Jean. It seemed as if he had heard it quite recently. "I am John of Lancaster, Duke of Bedford... From this very moment, you belong to me... Now you are my prisoner..." - Jean's hands went cold. He remembered the battlefield, the slain Pegasus, his fall, and the blow as he tried unsuccessfully to rise and continue fighting his enemies, the cold grey eyes. He remembered begging to be killed, even subjected to a painful execution, and finally, an affectionate voice soothing him - "Hush, little one, hush. Calm down." And after that, silence, emptiness... Jean remembered nothing else, he lost consciousness. Now, he felt life returning to his body, his heart pounding and his head aching. The dead don't have headaches, Jean knew that for sure. Once, as a child, he had complained to his mother of a headache. His mother became alarmed and urgently ordered a healing potion, and his father, standing nearby, laughed and said, - Your head hurts, you're alive, so you have it on your shoulders. Dead men have no headaches. A knight must endure pain, learn now, Jeannot, you'll need it in life.  
Father... Jean wanted to die and meet him there in heaven. But God wouldn't let him, wouldn't accept him into his paradise. Apparently, it was too soon. But, what then? Become a prisoner of Bedford, his worst enemy?! That fate seemed terrible to Jean. He turned his head and moaned softly, not in pain, the pain he could endure, but more in despair.

\- How are you, my boy? Your life is not in danger, my best doctor has done all that is necessary, and your head will soon pass, be patient. - John Bedford came to the camp bed where they had set his young prisoner and readjusted the pillow.  
\- Bedford... Why didn't you let me die? - Jean wished to die right now, this minute. What dinner, what broth?! Does this Englishman know what he's talking about? Would Jean, Duke of Alencon, eat the food of his enemies, drink their potions? Never!  
\- Aren't you tired of saying the same thing, my young friend? Your time has not yet come. Heaven can wait. Heaven can wait for you, my fair Duke, - John ran his hand over his cheek, gentle and careful, as if afraid of hurting him more.  
\- Don't touch me, Bedford, - Jean turned his head to the side.  
\- Don't touch? - John raised an eyebrow slightly, - And if I DO touch? Could you stop me from doing that? You seem to have forgotten, boy, that, from now on, you are in my power.  
\- I hate you, - Jean clenched his fists in impotent anger.  
\- You had already informed me of that earlier, Your Grace, Duke without a duchy, - John grinned.  
\- Damn you to hell! - Jean didn't know how he could hurt John Bedford, in whose complete power he was, he could only powerlessly hate and curse him.  
\- You're repeating yourself, kid, or else you have a short memory. You've already cursed me, and quite recently, - John crouched on the edge of his bed.  
\- And a thousand curses won't be enough for you Englishmen. I am not your property, John Bedford. I may be your prisoner, but not for long, and I will be ransomed,- Jean glimmered hopefully in his eyes.  
\- A ransom? - John narrowed his beautiful gray eyes slightly. You have almost nothing, no lands, no duchy. Your family, your mother, your fiancée will never raise that kind of money.  
\- Don't you dare mention Mother and Jeanne! - The mention of the bride, the charming Jeanne, daughter of the Duke of Orleans, hurt Jean. Jeanne was a beautiful girl, with a kind and cheerful disposition, they loved each other, and we're going to get married. Would it be impossible for this to happen? Jean realized that the bride and her mother really didn't have much money. Bedford could ask for a great deal. But... perhaps Cousin Charlo?  
\- What are you thinking, boy? You have no one to rely on. Do you really think your cousin Charles would be willing to pay up? - He walks about with an outstretched hand, this poor King of Bourges,* - John scornfully grinned.  
\- What fortress will you put me in? - Jean was no foolish - Which fortress will you put me in? - Jean was no fool, and he knew John was right. His cousin loved him, they were close friends, but Charlo really had no money, the war had devastated the coffers. Charles had borrowed from his wealthy cronies and that cunning fox, the Archbishop of Chartres*. No, he could not ransom Jean, however much he valued him. But perhaps there will be an opportunity to escape from prison or the fortress? And if not, he will kill himself, he will succeed! Better to die with honor than to live without honor. Better so than to languish in some dungeon, or even in acceptable conditions, but in captivity. Not to see his family and friends, not to participate in battles for the freedom of his homeland, not to marry and embrace his children as his father once embraced him. But only to rot alive, to die every day and every night... The Lord will forgive him for this sin, the Lord is merciful.  
\- I'm going to put you in the kind of prison that you can't escape, - John's gray eyes flashed with the devil's fire, or so it seemed to Jean. He felt uncomfortable, John Bedford reading his thoughts like an open book.  
\- Where to, John? - unexpectedly to himself, Jean called his enemy by name. But wherever Bedford imprisoned him, he would manage to keep his dignity. After all, it is possible...  
\- This prison will be more secure than all the fortresses of France put together. Don't even think about starving yourself to death or smashing your head against the wall. Admit it, boy, you've had that thought, and if you haven't, you will. I know all your thoughts and feelings, my boy. I was like that myself when I was your age... I can understand you, - John's eyes warmed, deep in his heart he respected Jean's desperate courage, but he would not lose this treasure. Never.  
\- You're a devil, Bedford. A real devil, - Jean felt his hands grow cold again. But it is not fear, no. He is not afraid of anything, is he? He is strong, he can cope, God will not leave him.  
\- Oh, I think I hear familiar words again!* A charming Frenchwoman said it to me before. But nevertheless, she had to submit it to me. And you will, my beautiful Duke, - John took Jean by the chin and turned his face toward him, the young Duke's green eyes reflecting hatred, but also despair and pain, - All right, boy, enough talk. It's suppertime, you need to drink the potion.  
\- I... - Jean glared angrily, but John did not let him finish.  
\- YOU are going to eat now and YOU are going to drink the medicine. Don't give me that "I'd rather starve to death" act. We're not at a town fair, and at the moment, I'm not in the mood to see a show. I'm very gentle with you, but my patience may run out. And then, I will do as I am accustomed to doing on such occasions. My methods have always been very effective. Don't provoke me, Jean, you'd better not. The food and your medicine are coming, - John frowned, indeed he was being overzealous with the stubborn French lad, - James! - he called to his squire and said something in English to him. Then the young man bowed and disappeared again from the camp tent.  
\- No! You can't make me! - shouted Jean.  
\- I won't make you? - John laughed, You don't know me yet. You think you are a man and you behave like a stupid and stubborn boy. I understand that you wish to preserve your dignity, but you will not preserve it by your behavior, boy. You think being shackled and forced to drink what you have to drink won't hurt your pride? - John grinned, - Act like a grown man, not like a hurt child. Think about it. My men are not going to be coy with you.  
\- I'll drink your potion, - Jean sighed.  
\- And eat.  
\- But I'm not hungry at all. I won't be able to, - Jean really didn't feel hungry.  
\- Have some broth, you need it. At least a little, - John himself realized that in this situation, Jean might not have an appetite.

The next morning, Jean woke up without a headache, he felt better. John made him drink the potion and eat something. Jean decided it was better to do it voluntarily than to be forced into it. He was an unarmed prisoner and could not resist. It was frightening to imagine Bedford's men shackling him, touching his body, mocking him, the Duke of Alencon. His enemy was right, it would be even more humiliating. But... John never answered, where was he going to put Jean? John... Strangely, this was the first time Jean had thought of him as John and not the damned Bedford. And yet they share the same name. John and Jean... The English and French pronunciation of the name John. What kind of silly thought is that? Jean shouldn't think about it, he and John Bedford have nothing in common, and can't have anything in common. Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of Bedford.  
\- Well, how is my boy feeling? Better? - It seemed to Jean that John smiled warmly at him. It seemed... The man is incapable of such a display of emotion.  
\- Yes, I feel better, but I'm not at all happy about it.  
\- I know. You'd rather die than be a prisoner of a hated enemy, - John said.  
John walked over and patted Jean on the head," But I won't give you that pleasure. All right, that's enough idle talk. We have to go.  
\- Where to? - Jean asked though he didn't seem to care anymore.  
\- I missed my sweet Annie*, and besides, I needed to rest after my glorious victory. Let's go home.  
\- Home? What about me? - Jean doesn't quite know what "home" means.  
\- You go home too, where else? Where I go, you go. I hope you like it in my castle in Rouen. It's warm and cozy. All thanks to the efforts of my Anne, she's a wonderful hostess. She'll be delighted to see you, especially as you're related. Now have your breakfast and drink the potion again, it'll help you.  
\- I'll live in your castle... - Jean's chest tightened with a misgiving. "Why?" Annie... Anne of Burgundy, John Bedford's wife. They were related by some distant kinship, but Jean had never been interested in that. The Burgundians are traitors and enemies. Now he was to be a prisoner of an Englishman and a Burgundian, to live in the den of enemies... Lord, help him to endure this humiliation! He will no longer plead, curse and beg for death. If God has sent him this trial, he will endure it. He will endure it with honor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) The rightful heir to the French throne, Dauphin Charles, was "holed up" in Bourges at the time, as Paris was under English rule. Opponents referred to him as the King of Bourges.
> 
> 2) Archbishop of Chartres - Renaud of Chartres (de Chartres),  
> Archbishop-Duke of Rheims, head of the French Church,  
> Chancellor of France, peer, and member of the Royal Council established under the Dauphin Charles.
> 
> 3) In my fic "Kitten", these are the words spoken to John by his brother's widow, Henry V - Catherine Valois.
> 
> 4) Anne of Burgundy, Duchess of Bedford is the daughter of Duke Jean Fearless of Burgundy and wife of John Bedford.


	4. To captivity

John Bedford's castle in Rouen was a well-fortified fortress with several towers, surrounded by a high stone wall. There was probably no way to escape from it - the young Jean of Alencon realized this as soon as he took one look at the gloomy edifice. The darkest and most frightening place of his life, for he was to spend many months, perhaps even years there. There was no hope of speedy redemption, and certainly no hope of Bedford's mercy. All that remained was to accept his fate and...submit? Jean did not want to submit, his whole being resisted it, he hated his enemies, he did not want to eat their food, drink their wine, sleeps in their beds. He didn't want to live in John Bedford's house, but he also realized there was no other option. "I'd rather be thrown into some dungeon," - Jean thought bitterly.

\- My dear, this is your cousin Alencon, our prisoner, - John nudged Jean lightly towards the young and pretty lady, with blonde hair and blue eyes.  
\- I am very glad to see him, - the lady smiled warmly, then hugged and kissed Jean on the cheek - he wanted to turn away proudly but did not do so, for Lady Bedford was not hostile, she was sweet and friendly. Jean realized that it was Anne of Burgundy, John Bedford's wife.  
\- How young you are and how handsome! A little angel! - Anne stroked Jean on the head, - Darling, I have no idea how much this treasure could be worth? It's priceless!  
\- I know his price, - John grinned. He has already decided what ransom he will demand his beautiful captive. One that would never be collected... not for a short time, anyway.  
\- However, I think you should rest now, you're tired from your journey. I will arrange for a hot bath and dinner, - Anna noticed the despair in Jean's beautiful eyes.  
\- Thank you, Madame. I'm not hungry, - Jean's appetite has been a problem, which is not surprising in his situation.  
\- But, how... - Anne wanted to object, but her husband interrupted her, - Don't mind him, Anne, it's his favorite phrase. He's going to eat. Take charge, darling.  
\- Don't be stubborn, Jean. Our chefs are excellent cooks, you'll love it, - Anne took Jean's hand in hers, squeezed it, and went to give orders to the servants.  
\- You have a kind wife, - Jean turned to John. "How does she live with this cruel man?" - flashed through his mind.  
\- Anne is generous. But, I will try to remedy that. Too much soft-heartedness is no use in these times, - John thought to himself. - Well, let's think about your chambers. The room should certainly be comfortable and warm, for you will be in it for many years until the ransom is collected. And it may never be collected, - John grinned wickedly.  
\- Do you enjoy mocking me? - Jean felt another wave of despair rising in his chest, - God will help me, I'm sure.  
\- Yes, you have only God to rely on, boy.

It had been a week since John had brought Jean to his castle. He gave him a spacious and warm bedroom, with a large fireplace and a comfortable, wide bed. Jean gradually got used to life in the Bedford residence. His appetite returned, Jean no longer refused to eat, especially since the host's table served very tasty food and exquisitely expensive wines. Why should he deny himself food and drink since he was a prisoner here? Jean, was surprised to find that John Bedford and his wife were interested in painting and books. John had many rare books in his library, which Jean, with his master's permission, read with great interest. How did such predilections combine with this man's cruelty? John could be ruthless. When a poor peasant was caught by his men trying to hunt in his domain, John had him skinned alive. This horrified Jean, his father would never do such a thing, nor would he do it himself.  
\- Why are you so cruel, John? The man must have done it to feed his children. Don't you feel sorry for him? - Jean knew he shouldn't interfere in the affairs of the castle master, but he couldn't keep quiet.  
\- Do I feel sorry for him? - John thought for a moment. - I rarely feel pity. And I do not pity him, no. Anyway, he broke the law and he had to answer for it. I do not tolerate impunity, it breeds chaos and insubordination. Everyone must be held accountable for their actions. Now others will think twice before they hunt on John Bedford's property. I taught a good lesson, - John narrowed his gray eyes slightly.  
\- And how did Lady Bedford feel about that? - It seemed to Jean that Anne would not approve of such an action.  
\- Anne humbly accepts everything I do. I always do as I see fit. It's not appropriate for a woman to interfere. As a loving wife, she supports me and submits to me. Humility is a woman's greatest virtue.  
\- You don't suppose a woman can have an opinion? Yes, ladies are not capable of holding a sword and fighting, God has not given them strength, but he has given them a head and a heart, they can think, feel. \- They can. But a woman must keep her opinions to herself, and not speak out unless asked. Otherwise, she may imagine she is equal to a man, and that is a great sin. "Why?" - ran through Jean's mind, "What if I'd been born a girl? No one chooses who they are born to be. Is it the girls' fault?"  
\- I'm a man, but I'm not in a better position now than some lady. Or even worse. I can't move around freely, I can't see my friends and family, and no one is particularly interested in my opinion either, I'm not free, - Jean felt tears coming to his eyes. Not again! He hadn't cried since he was eight years old, not since he had promised his mother he would never do it again. Not since they had been forced to flee their castle, their lands confiscated by the murderous Henry V in favor of his younger brother. Would he now allow himself weakness, allow himself to be humiliated by this very brother who had deprived him not only of his home and lands but now of his freedom as well? Christ, he was sixteen, not eight! He's a grown man, he's got to hold it together, he's got to.  
\- Come to me. Don't despair, little one. Don't you feel good at our place? Haven't I made all the arrangements for you? A father does not take care of his son the way I take care of you, - John suddenly pulled Jean to him and hugged him tightly, stroking his back, - Only my feelings for you are not fatherly, not at all fatherly...  
\- What are they? - Jean looked at John with a surprised look, which made his large green eyes seems larger.  
\- What a boy you are, - John grinned and patted Jean on the head and then kissed him firmly on the lips.  
\- John? - Jean's eyes widened again in surprise, - Why did you do that?  
\- Because I wanted to, and because I have the right to. Does it make you uncomfortable?  
\- I... I don't know... - Jean was confused and really didn't know what to answer. Was it really unpleasant for him? It had to be! The enemy touched his lips with his own. It must have been disgusting. But... somehow it wasn't. It was not disgusting. It was a strange sensation, exhilarating. Jean remembered the chaste kisses they had managed to exchange with Jeanne, his fiancée. They had been pleasant, even very pleasant, but he hadn't felt that kind of excitement back then. Maybe now the excitement was mixed with... fear? No, Jean was not afraid of John Bedford, though he was in his full power.  
\- All right boy, it's late, we'll have supper now, and it's time for bed. I have to get up early tomorrow, you can lie in bed all day, - John interrupted Jean's reasoning, - but I have affairs of state to attend to. Being regent to a king of two powers is a busy business. One heretic should be burned - John yawned, - Oh, relax, he'll get what he deserves for sure, - He stroked Jean's cheek as he saw him turn pale.

Jean tossed and turned in his bed and could not sleep. He couldn't sleep because of the conversation he'd had with John today. And Bedford was right, he had indeed made all the arrangements for him, cared for him, ordered him clothes made of the most expensive fabrics - "Your beauty deserves only the best." Other fathers, indeed, did not care so much for their sons. But... John said he didn't feel fatherly. And that kiss today... God, what's next for Jean? He'll try not to think about it now, he has to go to sleep. He'll think about it tomorrow.*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Jean is like Scarlett O'Hara :)


	5. Sweetheart

\- Your Majesty, this is a huge sum. I'm afraid there's no way we can raise that kind of money without your help. Jeanne and I will pawn all our jewels and what land I have left, but I'm afraid that won't be enough to pay Jean's ransom - a tear rolled down the cheek of Marie D. Alencon, mother of the young Jean of Alencon. She was in despair, because the Duke of Bedford, who has captured her beloved son, asked for him a fabulous amount of money, such money has neither her, nor her relatives, nor his fiancee Jeanne of Orleans. How to help her son? Marie had no idea what to do, how to save him. She knew well how much her Jean cherished his freedom, knew his proud disposition, and now he was a prisoner... An avalanche of despair was rising in her soul, the Dauphin Charles - Jean's cousin was her last hope. He must help at least in some way! Jean had always been so loyal to him, served him faithfully, was a good friend. And he had always told his mother that the Dauphin would surely become king, the day would come when Charles would be crowned, he would be the rightful ruler of his land, of his France. In the meantime, this was hard to believe. The English continued to take one city after another. And in the last battle, they captured her Jean, her treasure. Bedford took him to his castle... She must get him out of there! Even if she has to sell all her belongings, every last shirt.  
\- I understand, madam. You know how much I value your son's friendship and loyalty. But you also know that I am in a very difficult position. The treasury is empty, taxes can no longer be raised, I have to economize on everything. Me, the rightful heir to the throne of France! I should be king! These scoundrels have robbed me of everything, just as they robbed you and your son, - Charlemagne's already ugly face twisted into a grimace of helpless rage.  
\- They will answer for this, Your Majesty. To us, you are king, the only rightful king, and there can be no other. The time will come and the English will pay for all the evil they have done to us. I feel it, Your Majesty, I believe it, and so do you! God will not leave us in His mercy, - Marie smiled, trying to cheer up the discouraged Dauphin, though she was not at ease herself.  
\- Very well, Madam. I will see what I can do for you. Perhaps I can spare some money for you... but alas, not much, not much at all. I simply can't give you more, with all due respect. You know all too well yourself, - Charles rubbed his handkerchief nervously with his fingers.  
\- I understand, Your Majesty. Forgive my impertinence, it is only desperation that makes me trouble you in this hour of need. We have all been their victims. Thank you for listening, and thank you for your help. God bless Your Majesty, - Marie curtsied and left the audience hall.

\- Give her the money! Where am I going to get it for her? Jean should have been more careful not to get caught by that damned Bedford. And now the widow is begging for money I don't have, - Charles pouted grudgingly, his plump lips pouting.  
\- But, Your Majesty, it's not his fault he was taken, prisoner. It sometimes happens on the battlefield, - the black-haired, handsome young man grinned. Сharles himself hardly ever fought on the battlefield.  
\- What are you laughing at, Gilles? I don't see what's so funny! - Charles was annoyed.  
\- Forgive me, Your Majesty, I'm not laughing at all. How can I laugh at you? But, Jean is too young, this was only his second battle in life, and no wonder he was taken prisoner by such an experienced warlord as Bedford.  
\- All right, nothing. What happened can't be changed now. But, for some reason, I'm the one who has to pay for it. Hmm... I wonder why this so-called Regent asked such a huge sum for him. He's not a fool, and he understands that Jean's family can't collect it, at any rate, it will take more than one year...  
\- I hate to tell you this, Your Majesty, but... it seems to me that Bedford was attracted to the beauty of our Jean, - Gilles de Montmorency-Laval, Baron de Ré, knew what he was talking about, and felt he was right. After all, he also preferred handsome young men to court ladies. Frankly, he had often had sinful thoughts when he looked at young Jean. Gilles appreciated his beauty, but never tried to use it to satisfy his desires. Jean of Alencon was a cousin of the Dauphin, and the scandal that Gilles had been making a rapid career at court was not needed.  
\- So... you think Bedford... might use him for his own low, vicious purposes? Make him his own... - Charles grimaced in disgust.  
\- I'm not sure about that, Your Majesty, but this scoundrel may be driven by filthy lust. I wish I were wrong. I pity Jeannot. He won't give himself to Bedford willingly, and he may be violent... bound, chained? - Gilles' eyes flashed with desire as he imagined himself in the place of the fortunate Regent. How fortunate that scoundrel was to have such a rare bird of paradise locked up in a cage.  
\- That's enough, Gilles! Shut up! I'm disgusted to hear that! As if I don't have enough problems to solve other people's, - Charles reached for a flute of wine, - God, why am I being punished like this?  
\- Your Majesty, you need not concern yourself with the request of the widow D'Alencon. I will help her as much as I can and I would be honored to help you as well, - Gilles bowed.  
\- My faithful Gilles, what would I do without you? - Charles was relieved that he would not have to think about helping to ransom Jean. After all, he wouldn't have been able to do what his mother asked him to do anyway.  
\- Always at your service. God bless Your Majesty.

Reading his mother's letter, Jean felt frustrated and humiliated. She had to borrow money from relatives and pawn her jewelry. And now Jeanne is going to pawn hers! How will he look her in the eye afterward (will he?) Who needs such a fiancé? What a shame! But, his mother, in a letter, assured him that Jeanne's feelings were still strong, and she would spare nothing for his speedy release. But Jean had already realized that he would not be released any time soon. Well, he is prepared to endure, if only his family would not be so humiliated. Especially since he lives in very comfortable conditions, not all prisoners have been so lucky. Jean will endure, he will endure the separation.  
\- Reading, little one? - John Bedford appeared unexpectedly, and interrupted his occupation, holding some kind of a pile in his hands. What was he doing here so late? Jean was about to go to bed.  
\- A letter from my mother. She writes that she is collecting money, - Jean replied.  
\- Is that so?, - John raised an eyebrow, - It will take her a long time to collect it.  
\- Sooner or later, the ransom will be paid, I will still be free, - Jean lifted his chin proudly.  
\- God works in mysterious ways, Jean. But, as long as you belong to me, - John sat down on the bed beside Jean, - I don't think you have anything to complain about here. Other princes don't live in the same conditions as you. And you haven't even thanked me once.  
\- Maybe I'd prefer a dungeon with rats, - Jean grinned, - but I thank you anyway, John. Everything you do for me will be repaid when the ransom is paid.  
\- It's easy to talk about a dungeon with rats when you've never been there. It's just as easy to talk about the most excruciating torture and execution when you have no idea what it feels like to be tortured to death.  
\- And you, - Jean snorted, - you don't sit in a dungeon and be tortured, you torture and execute people yourself.  
\- Yes, my boy, and I can see their eyes, see the despair and pain reflected in it, hear their cries, their pleas for mercy...  
\- Only you are not affected by these pleas, you do not pity anyone, - Jean sighed.  
\- I have no right to pity the enemies of my king. Anyone who breaks the law is a personal enemy of the king, and I will deal with them without pity, - John's eyes narrowed slightly, glinting with anger.  
\- Yes, deal with it, who doesn't let you, - Jean turned away, he was tired of this conversation about torture and executions, about the "king" who was to rule his homeland, bypassing the rightful heir.  
\- Let's leave it at that, - John said as if he had read Jean's thoughts, - Let's get back to your ransom. Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I don't want it paid? That you are more valuable to me than all the treasures in the world? - John ran his palm over his cheek, outlined his lips with his index finger.  
\- What are you talking about, John? You must, you must let me go for the ransom! - Jean was embarrassed by the look John was burning him with. He suddenly remembered that John was by no means the first man to look at him that way. Some courtiers looked at Jean the same way, like Gilles de Re, Baron de Montmorency-Laval... Sometimes this handsome, young knight looked at him so strangely that Jean blushed and was embarrassed. Really, he didn't pay much attention to it; who knows how anyone looks? After all, it was none of his business. But, now, it seemed, Jean began to realize what that look meant. He felt uncomfortable.  
\- Do you remember our kiss? - John asked affectionately, - I would like to continue tonight. I want to taste your sweet lips again.  
\- Continue what? Do you want to kiss me again? - Jean felt confused again, just like the last time, after John had touched him with his lips.  
\- Come here, sweetheart, - John pulled Jean to him and touched his lips by his own, then deepened the kiss, pulled his teeth apart with his tongue, continuing to kiss him hotly and passionately. Jean didn't immediately realize what was happening, he was dizzy. No one had ever kissed him like that before. With his fiancée Jeanne, they had kissed, but lightly, almost weightlessly, those were the first, chaste kisses. John kissed for real. John Bedford...the man, his enemy. "My God, what is this?" - he was dumbfounded.  
\- What are you doing, John? Have you lost your mind? - Jean broke free from John's embrace.  
\- Kissing you, my boy. Don't you like it? - John kissed him again, now on the cheek.  
\- But... it's not right. You shouldn't kiss me like that. You're a man! It's a sin!  
\- I have many sins on my conscience, sweetheart, another sin won't make it any worse, - John reached for the ties on Jean's shirt and with a sharp movement untied them, -  
Jean didn't even have time to react to his captor's strange action, - It's too hot in here, don't you think, kid?  
\- Why are you doing this? What do you want? - Jean asked in a trembling voice, though he seemed to have realized by now what John Bedford wanted from him.  
\- What do I want? - John grinned, - I want YOU. Only you.  
\- You are mad, John! What would Lady Bedford say to that? - Jean felt fear, yes, fear of the unknown, although it was not a feeling he normally experienced.  
\- And yet, you are very forgetful, my boy. I told you before, I'm not interested in a woman's opinion, - John took Jean in his arms again and kissed him hotly on the lips, then stroked his naked back, a little lower, started to pull his chausses down. This was too much!  
\- Leave me alone, let me go now! - Jean began to pull away desperately.  
\- Let go? You seem to have forgotten, boy, that you belong to me. How dare you speak to me in that tone, shouting at me?! - John narrowed his eyes, the way he always did when he was angry - I have been very patient, very caring, I have been good to you. Is this your gratitude?!  
\- Is this how I'm supposed to repay you for caring?! Now I understand! I'd rather be rotting in a dungeon! - Not that Jean disliked John's touching and kissing, but he didn't want to become a plaything for his enemy's lust.  
\- Do you think I am incapable of love? I love you my boy, sweetheart. Perhaps ever since I first saw your image...there in Alencon. Then I decided you should be mine, and God helped me. You're mine now, all mine, - John pulled Jean back to him, hugged him tightly, then lowered him to the pillow and kissed his face. But he suddenly felt a pain in the back of his head as Jean tugged sharply at his hair.  
\- Get off me, John! You're not going to dishonor me!  
\- So, sweetheart, you don't want to do this the easy way? - John straightened up and slapped Jean across the face - No, no one's going to torture you. But I'm going to have to reassure you a little. If you won't surrender to me willingly, I'll have to do it by force. I don't tolerate disobedience, and I won't tolerate it from my prisoner, - John slapped him again, this time on the other cheek. Jean put his hands to his flaming cheeks, it was now clear to him that John Bedford would take what he wanted anyway. Would he really have to put up with it? Had he lost everything, and in a few moments would he lose his honor as well?  
\- Is this your love? It is only lust! You lecherous Englishman, why are we considered deprived? No one is more lewd and sinful than the English! - Jean clenched his fists in impotent anger. What could he do? Resist? John was clearly stronger, he couldn't handle him. And then he could call his men, order them to tie him up, or shackle him. Then they would see his shame. Would John hide what is happening from them? No one would dare to accuse the Regent of France of sodomy, for he would be on the gallows or in boiling tar before. The servants were well aware of their master's favorite methods of reprisal.  
\- I know what you're thinking, little one. And, you're absolutely right, it's no use resisting me. I always take what I want. I am Lancaster, son, and brother of great kings, - John read Jean's mind again like an open book.  
\- Fuck you and your great kings! Damn you all, - Jean sighed and turned away.  
\- I hear the familiar words, - John grinned, - I know you like to curse, I know that. But now... I want to know how sweet you are, - he licked his lips. French women are very sweet, one of them gave me a lot of pleasure, but I got bored of Cat quickly. You're different, you're brave and manly, you're stubborn, and I like that. Yes, I like it, you're becoming more desirable to me, more desirable every day, - John quickly got rid of his clothes and took off Jean's chauffers. "What a shame, why is God punishing our family like this?" - Jean thought bitterly, "What have I done to anger Him?" John ran his palm over Jean's cheek and turned his face to him.  
\- You will possess my body, but not me, - Jean tried to retain the remnants of his pride since nothing else could be retained.  
\- I know, sweetheart. No one has power over our souls but God. And it's not my fault that I desire and love you, - John examined Jean's body, still young, almost without a single scar, the swarthy skin as soft as silk. His own body wasn't like that at all - calloused skin, many scars from battle, strong muscles. Not holding back his curiosity, Jean glanced at the naked John. "And he's a strong and quite attractive man," - the thought flashed, but he immediately pushed it away.  
\- Do you like my body? - John noticed that Jean was looking at him with interest.  
\- I don't like anything! - Jean frowned, - Do what you came to do and leave.  
\- What do you mean leave? - John raised an eyebrow in surprise, - I am in my castle, and tonight I'm going to spend the night in these chambers, with you, I want to be with you, my priceless treasure, - John leaned down and covered Jean with his body, one arm around his neck, the other caressing him - gently stroking his chest, his stomach, his hips. He did not want to hurt him deliberately, but only to possess his beautiful captive. Then he stroked Jean's dark, thick hair and kissed his lips again, enjoying the taste of them. John realized that no one had ever kissed those lips like that, they beckoned more than any heavenly nectar. Breaking away from Jean's lips, he kissed his chin, moved to his neck, left a few kisses on it, then licked the dark nipple with his tongue. Jean could hardly keep from letting out a low moan, the sensation was indeed quite pleasurable. John Bedford was a devil, why did he make him feel that way! He's his enemy, Jean shouldn't have to experience the pleasure of sinful intimacy with his enemy, it must be even more humiliating. Suddenly, John rose abruptly and reached for the very bundle he had come to Jean's chambers with, it lay on the small bedside table. From there he took out a small glass bottle of oil, opened it, and poured the oil onto his hands, then lubricated his horny flesh with it. Jean, who had been watching him, immediately understood why John was doing this, and panic gripped him. To tolerate hugs and kisses was still possible, and maybe even pleasant, but...this? Jean knew what John needed but suddenly wondered if it would stand the test. And it wasn't even the physical pain, it was the humiliation to go through. Needless to say, Jean was a virgin, he had never been intimate with even a single woman in his entire life, let alone a man. Although, many young men his age, had already changed several mistresses. Jean has never been deprived of women's attention, many ladies flirted with him, explicitly making it clear that they would not mind a closer acquaintance. But, Jean desired intimacy only for love, and only after marriage in the sight of God. Sometimes he dreamed how he would do it with Jeanne after they were married. How gentle and affectionate he would be, how happy they would be. How would he be able to touch her after what John had done to him?  
\- John, please... don't... please. You're a knight, don't you have any honor? - Jean looked pleadingly at John. Perhaps words of knightly honor would stop him? Though, deep down, Jean knew that nothing would stop John Bedford.  
\- You are too old-fashioned, my boy. You should have lived in the days of Richard the Lionheart, - John stroked Jean's cheek soothingly, then leaned down and said softly in his ear, - And you know that your great king, Philip II Augustus was in love with our King Richard. The chroniclers wrote of their love, they were intimate, just as we will be with you now, - John bit Jean's earlobe a little and kissed the back of his neck.  
\- That's nonsense! The chroniclers were lying! - Jean turned away in indignation.  
\- It doesn't matter now. Relax, sweetheart, don't be afraid, everything will be all right, - Jean felt John spread his legs apart and lifted them. He was wrong to think he could take it. No, he didn't want it, he wasn't a woman!  
\- No! Don't! - Jean tried to push John away, - I hate you! You'll answer for this! Bloody Englishman! - he grabbed John by the hair, but he grabbed his arms, squeezed hard, and put them behind his head.  
\- You shouldn't have done that, boy, it's going to be harder on you now. If you'd laid still, I'd have prepared you, and it wouldn't have hurt so much. Well, you chose, - John entered him sharply and began to move. His flesh was quite large, Jean's tears involuntarily spurted from the intense, sharp pain, - "God, help me..." John slowed his pace a little, leaned into him, and began to cover his cheeks, wet with tears, with kisses. Then he hugged him tightly, сovering him with his whole body, stroking his head.  
\- All is well, sweetheart, all is well... - Suddenly, John started to move again, hard and fast, and after a while, he poured into Jean with a loud moan.  
\- Oh God, you're as sweet as honey... - John breathed heavily, lay down beside Jean, and pulled him closer, - Would I give you to anyone...ever...not for any money... - John closed his eyes wearily. Jean tried to object but realized that John was asleep. Would he be able to sleep himself, after what had happened? Jean struggled to comprehend what had happened. His honor had been trampled. But...was it really that disgusting? It hurt, yes, but at the same time, Jean was clearly aware that it didn't disgust him. The kisses and hugs were even pleasant, John's body odor wasn't repulsive either, and his hair, cropped in a half-circle, in the knightly fashion, was soft and silky. Jean grinned - at least he'd managed to grab John by the hair a couple of times. It was a feat to be proud of, for there were no other feats he could accomplish yet. But he will commit to. Jean knew for sure that his time would come, and with these thoughts, he sank into the abyss of sleep.

When Jean woke up in the morning, he realized that John was no longer in bed. He must have gone to give the order for another execution. He turned his head and noticed a note on the bedside table. Taking it, Jean read - "Good morning, my treasure. I hope you are feeling well. I have a hard day ahead of me today, but I will think of you and look forward to seeing you tonight." There was, of course, no signature, but he already knew who the author of the note was.


	6. The web

\- Johnny... Darling... - Anna Bedford let out a soft moan of pleasure and threw her head back, spreading her blond hair across the pillow. She loved her husband and enjoyed every minute of their intimacy. John squeezed Anna harder in his arms, gave a couple of last hard thrusts, and poured his seed into his wife's relaxed body. Then he lowered himself down beside her and kissed the top of her head.  
\- My good one, my baby girl. I have the best wife in the world, - John stroked Anna's head affectionately.  
\- And I have the best husband, - Anna pressed herself closer to John and rested her head on his shoulder. When the parents of the young Anne of Burgundy were told that she was to marry the regent of France, John of Lancaster, milord Bedford, she cried all night long. After all, he was the brother of the dead King Henry V, notorious for his cruelty, it was said his beloved younger brother had been equally ruthless. What sort of husband would he be? Anne was very young and had a fear of marriage, especially marriage to a man of the House of Lancaster. But, for political reasons, this marriage was necessary, the Duke of Burgundy, Anne's father, needed the support of the French regent. Anne complied and signed the marriage contract. And when she saw her fiancé, she realized that her fears were unfounded - John Bedford was a handsome, strong young man, and very courteous and gallant. Yes, with character, but how could one rule a country without character and firm will? Besides, he was gentle and affectionate with his Annie, valued her as a mistress of the house and wife, and in the affairs of the state, she preferred not to interfere, not to discuss the actions of her husband, and God forbid, not to criticize. Not only because she loved John with all her heart, but also because she knew that her husband would not tolerate disobedience and self-will, and she would lose his favor and love. But, tonight, Anna decided to talk to her husband about their family situation. She decided to choose this particular time, because, after intimacy with her, John was always in a great mood. Anna knew how to please her husband, and he felt good and relaxed in bed with her. Sometimes, she had used it before, for example, asking to cancel some cruel execution, replacing it with a more humane one. John, as usual, agreed and was not angry with her requests. But, now, Anne dared to speak frankly about her cousin - their prisoner, the young Duke of Alencon. She was well aware of her husband's feelings for this extraordinarily handsome young man, she knew that he spent his nights in Jean's chambers. No, young Jean had been given a wonderful life in their castle, John had spared nothing for him, he had even commissioned a portrait of him from the best artist - "Such beauty must remain for posterity". But, is Jean himself happy with his life? How does he feel about the fact that the enemy has made him his lover? Needless to say, it is a great sin? Anna felt sorry for her captive relative, but she felt even more sorry for herself. Jealousy tormented her. After all, even John had never looked at her the way he looked at this boy. She should talk to him, because, after all, Anna is a lawful wife and has the right to at least try to explain herself to her husband.  
\- Sweetheart, I'm thirsty, - Anna stood up and took a flute of wine from the table. I need a drink for the courage to start this conversation.  
\- Drink, Annie. Give it to me too, I'm thirsty too, - John took the glass from Anna and sipped.  
\- Darling, I didn't want to talk about this... but... - Anna was indecisive.  
\- What do you want to talk about? Speak, darling, don't be afraid, - John leaned back relaxed on the cushions, he was in a good mood.  
\- I want to talk about Jean. About our prisoner, Jean of Alencon. I understand, Johnny, that you care for him... but... but it's... a sin... - Anna blushed and lowered her eyes.  
\- So, you're telling me about MY prisoner? - John's expression changed dramatically, he turned dark, - Are you saying it's a sin? I have a lot of sins on my conscience, what's the worse sin? Are you saying I care about him? You are right, this boy is very precious to me. He's priceless to me! When you saw him, you said he was priceless, and it's true. Jean of Alencon belongs to me and that's out of the question. I will do with him as I please and no one has the right to tell me what to do with him, much less a woman! - John's eyes narrowed with anger, he abruptly put a flute of wine on the table. Anna already regretted that she had started this senseless conversation. She was frightened by John's anger. What a fool she was! After all, she could lose her husband's love and attention that way. Anna realized that she had been foolish and reckless.  
\- Forgive me, my dear husband. I beg you to forgive me. I didn't think before I said it. I know I'm a foolish woman. I just love you very much, Johnny. I'm afraid of losing your love, - tears came to Anna's eyes.  
\- You will not lose me if you continue to be the best wife I have ever had. You never interfered in my affairs, and I appreciated you very much for that. I've always been pleased with you, Annie. Please don't disappoint me, don't spoil it. I wouldn't want you to disappoint me, - John's expression softened and he pulled Anna to him, stroking her head.  
\- I swear never to cross you again, never to talk about Jean, let's forget about it, love, - Anna lifted herself up and began to kiss John's face, moving lower to his chest, biting her nipple just as he liked it. John rested his head on the pillow and moaned softly. Anna ran her hand over his chest, his stomach, stroked his hair below, then touched his hardened flesh. John rose and lowered her onto her back, lifting and spreading her legs apart, then covering her body with his own, he kissed her lips passionately and for a long time. Anna embraced him in return, running her hand down his back, his hair. Feeling her husband's throbbing flesh between her legs, she flexed and wrapped her legs around his waist. John moved sharply and quickly, her pleasure increasing with each movement. Reaching the climax of pleasure, Anna moaned and squeezed him harder in her arms. After a couple of moments, John, with a groan poured into Anna's hot body, lay down beside her and embraced her. "Is John just as good in bed with Jean? Does Jean give him such caresses or is he just submissively enduring while he gets his pleasure?" - she thought.  
\- Sweetheart, my darling... - John breathed heavily after the act of lovemaking, - You will always be desirable to me, you have nothing to worry about. You will always be my little Annie.  
\- I will always be your Annie, my love. And I will always be submissive to you, - Anna laid her head on her husband's chest and closed her eyes. John loves her, desires and appreciates her. And that is all that matters, she will not ask God for more.

Jean lay in bed, closing his eyes, but he could not sleep. This night John did not come to him, he was spending it with his wife. Lately, John had been too little time for her as he preferred to sleep in Jean's chambers. He has turned his handsome captive into a lover. How did Jean endure this ordeal? Yes, at first it was hard for him, both physically and mentally. His pride was trampled, his ego was hit, but...each time it got easier. Jean wouldn't admit it to anyone, but he could admit it to himself - he liked John's caresses, and he enjoyed his sinful coitus more and more. Jean liked his caressing voice when he called him his priceless treasure. He realized that he was caught like a fly in a spider's web because he was entangled not only in his captor's web but also in his own feelings. Did he really like his enemy? John was a handsome man - big grey eyes, correct facial features, strong body. Jean caught himself that he missed when John was away for a long time, that he waited for him at night. Just now, lying alone in bed, Jean thought of him. He wanted to taste his lips, the strength of his hands, his... It needs to leave these sinful thoughts behind! John Bedford is his enemy, no matter what. He must think of how his mother and Jeanne were living, there had been no letters from them for a long time. If only they knew what was happening to him! Would his Jeanne touch him, after hearing what his enemy had done to him? Jean sighed and rolled onto his other side. He wouldn't think about it. Not now.

\- Good morning, my treasure! How did you sleep? - John came into the bedroom, unexpected as always. He could enter Jean's room at any time, for he had the keys to all the rooms of the castle, he was the sovereign master here, and Jean was only a prisoner.  
\- I slept well, but I feel like taking a bath now, - Jean frowned; he hadn't really slept well, and he wanted to freshen up. Jean liked to take a bath, his mother had taught him to do it since he was a child.  
\- I love it so much when you frown, my boy, - John stroked Jean's head, - Of course, take a bath and get dressed, the servants will warm the water. The painter will finish your portrait today.  
\- I am grateful for the portrait, John, but I don't like posing. It's terribly boring, - Jean yawned.  
\- Be patient, little one. Am I going to let this beauty go unrecorded for the ages?  
\- I don't think my portrait will last forever... Why pose then? - Jean thought for some reason, he really felt that way.  
\- Let's leave it at that. I've already paid for it, so you'd better let to finish it, - John said in an irreconcilable tone of voice.  
\- All right, you talked me into it, - Jean reluctantly got out of bed.  
\- Look at him, he's doing me a favor. A naughty boy, -John patted Jean's ear lightly.  
\- Do I look well? If they're painting my portrait, I want to look good in it.  
\- Do you really think you can look bad? - John took Jean to him and kissed him on the lips. My handsome Duke.  
\- What cannot be said of you, Your Grace, terrible Duke, - Jean grinned.  
\- Is it just me or are you determined to make me angry today? - John slapped Jean just below the back, - Look, I'll punish you later.  
\- How, I wonder? Boil me in boiling water, or skin me? Or, what's your favorite punishment? Oh, yeah, your favorite punishment is being burned alive.  
\- Don't even dream of that, - John put his arm around Jean's neck and kissed him again, first on the cheek and then on the lips.  
\- Stop it, John, not now. Your painter will be here soon, and I need to take a bath and clean up, - Jean pulled away from John and took off his shirt. He hadn't been shy for a long time, since John seemed to already know every inch of his body.

After the portrait was finished, John came back to Jean's chambers and suggested a game of chess. He liked to play with Jean, the young Duke played well, but nevertheless, he could not win against John. This time Jean lost too, and John did not want to give in to him yet. Let him know who the winner was here.  
\- You lost again, Jeannot, - John grinned and shook the chess pieces off the board and then, setting the board down on the bedside table, - The winner takes it all. The winner takes it all," John approached Jean and began to free him from his clothes.  
\- Takes it all... What haven't you taken from me yet? Except for my life, - Jean frowned. He was unhappy that he had lost again. Jean had loved playing chess since he was a child, he remembered playing with his father. His father had never succumbed to him either, even though Jean was just a child then.  
\- You're wrong, sweetheart. I took your life, too, for it belongs to me, - John lowered Jean onto the cushions and undressed.  
\- I'll win someday, John. And not at chess at all.  
\- Only God knows, my boy, - John stroked Jean's hair, kissed his cheek, his eyes, his forehead, moved down to his lips, and caressed them greedily and passionately. Jean opened his mouth in response, wrapping his arms around his neck. John's hot kisses made him dizzy, Jean's flesh began to harden. He lowered his hand to touch him, but John intercepted it.  
\- Not now, sweetheart, - John lifted Jean's hands and put them behind his head, while he began to run a trail of kisses down his body - from his chin, down his neck, chest, stomach, to the dark, soft hairs below, at the base of his flesh. Jean moaned softly and tilted his head back. John looked up at him and licked his lips, his boy felt good. Whatever enemy he thought John Bedford was, he felt good with him. Then John lifted himself above him, ran his hand over his cheek, and covered his body with his own. Jean himself spread his legs invitingly apart and bit John's earlobe a little.  
\- What an impatient boy I have, - John began to cover Jean's face with kisses again, going down to his neck, sinking his lips into it. Jean moaned louder, scratched John's back a little with his nails, touched his hair, running a hand through it, he loved the feel of touching his silky brown hair. John lifted himself up and settled between Jean's legs. Jean glanced at him angrily - he enjoyed John's embrace, it was warm, his body burning with excitement.  
\- Now, my treasure, - John took the pre-prepared bottle of oil from the table, lubricated his flesh, then penetrated Jean's anus with one finger, stretching it. Jean moaned out loud now.  
\- Please... John... please...  
\- Begging, then? - John raised an eyebrow, - All right, you talked me into it.  
\- I hate you, - Jean turned away angrily. But John immediately turned his face to his and covered his body again, wrapping his arms around his neck.  
\- And I love you, sweetheart, - John pressed his lips to Jean's, who responded passionately, stroking his back and the hair on his head. Feeling John's flesh inside him, Jean began moaning loudly again, scratching his back. John began to move slowly, but then he quickened his pace and the movements became sharp and fast. Jean spurted his seed onto his stomach without even touching his flesh. John made a few more sharp movements and Jean felt the warm liquid spilling inside him. And he was enjoying it. When John released his body from his flesh, Jean felt empty, he wanted to be in his enemy's arms a little longer. John stood up and began gathering his clothes from the floor beside the bed.  
\- Where are you going? - Jean rose from the pillows.  
\- That's an odd question. You, then, got your punishment, but the others? Now his lordship has to go and punish for real since I'm a terrible duke, - John grinned and walked over to Jean and kissed him on the lips, Jean biting his lip lightly in response.  
\- I see you were not satisfied with your punishment, fair Duke. Well, you'll get more tonight, - John winked at Jean and left the chambers.  
Jean went back to bed. He didn't feel like getting up and doing anything. Now, it was finally clear to him that it would not be so easy to get out of this web. After all, he could no longer live without that scoundrel.


	7. The Hope

Jean sat by the fireplace and read a letter that had recently arrived from his mother. The winter of the year one thousand four hundred and twenty-nine was unusually cold and chilly. Fortunately, Jean's quarters were warm and cozy and he did not suffer from the cold. Would John Bedford allow his priceless prisoner to freeze? Priceless... in every sense of the word. The ransom he had set for the young Duke of Alencon was truly enormous - two hundred thousand gold salou.* Five years have passed since the sixteen-year-old young Jean was taken, prisoner. Five long years ... During these years, from a fragile young man, he turned into a very handsome young man, with a shapely figure and proper facial features, which had already lost their childish tenderness, but gained manhood. Jean was in his twenty-second year, and still a prisoner. At that age, young men of noble birth are usually knighted.* Will he ever become a knight? Will he be able to defend his homeland, his family, his king in the end? How strange... Jean languished in captivity for five-plus years, but did he really suffer? At first, yes, but then...then he got used to it, and not just used to it, but genuinely attached to his enemy. To John of Lancaster, Duke of Bedford, Regent of France, under the young King Henry VI. This boy was already about ten years old. Another five or six years and he could rule on his own. But by whom? Would the King of England, son of the bloody Henry V, rule over France and the rightful heir go into exile? Things were getting worse for the Dauphin Charles, and he was thinking of fleeing to Spain, to the homeland of his mother-in-law, Yolande of Aragon, who had replaced his mother. For months the English had been besieging Orléans - the last bastion of the Dauphin's power in northern France. If Orléans fell, Charles would have nowhere to go. He'll have to flee because nothing and no-one can save him. These thoughts had plagued Jean lately, and he thought about them long nights...when John was not around. When his enemy was near, Jean seemed to forget everything. His embrace felt good, warm, and peaceful. They spent many hot nights together, and Jean always enjoyed his intimacy with John. They also spent time together during the day if the Regent of France was not busy with affairs of state. They always had much to talk about, John even had a way of making his captive laugh. He said that he loved Jean, that he was his only and priceless treasure, that he did not want to part with him in any way. Did Jean want to part with him? He thought he knew the answer to that question, but was afraid to admit it, even to himself. He did not want to. No, he didn't; he would have stayed with John forever. But such thoughts are sinful, with these thoughts and feelings Jean betrays his homeland - his France, his king, his mother, and Jeanne, the memory of his father in the end! Father... If he only knew what John Lancaster was doing to his little Jean! And if he knew that his son was moaning with pleasure in the arms of the enemy. He would probably have cursed him, refused such a son. Would his father look up to him from heaven? Praise God, neither his mother, Jeanne, nor his cousin, knew anything about Jean's life in captivity, and he sincerely hoped that they never would. No one should ever guess about it. No one would ever know. They would rather think he was suffering.

Jean looked more closely at the lines. His mother had written that Orléans had been under siege for months, and he had already heard about it from John. But here she writes that there is hope - there is a young girl at Cousin Charlo's court, claiming that God himself has sent her to free France and crown the dauphin in Reims. The girl's name is Jeanne and she has made the arduous journey from Lorraine to Chinon,* to meet Charles and persuade him to give her an army to march to Orléans.  
"How strange..." - thought Jean. The young girl asks to give her an army... But, how will she fight? Jean didn't despise women at all, moreover, he didn't think they were less valuable than men or more useless. He honestly did not understand how it is possible to think in such a way, because a woman is a wife and a mother, she keeps the family hearth, she gives life to children in agony. Procreation depends more on the wife than on the husband - it must not be easy to bear and give birth to a child. Jean remembered how his father had treated his mother, how they had loved each other. He saw how John was treated by his wife, Lady Anne, how faithful and caring she was. It has to hand it to John, he treated his wife with tenderness, valued her, maybe even loved her, but nevertheless, he did not consider himself equal. But, Jean had never heard of a woman, much less a young girl, commanding an army. Is it possible? However...if what was said about her being sent by the Lord himself was true, then why not, if it was the Lord's will. Mother wrote of what she felt - this brave girl was destined to save France, and crown the Dauphin. "Do you remember, my son, when we were forced to flee from our castle, at Alencon, I told you that France would be saved, that it would happen and the Lord would help us? Of course, you remember everything, I don't doubt it. There must not have been a day in captivity that you did not think of that unhappy, black day for us. I'm convinced now that I was right, even if I am only an unreasonable woman, but I was right. France will be free. Our loved ones will be avenged. This beautiful girl radiates light, she will give us salvation, I am sure." - Jean frowned, not from reading the lines, but from anger at himself. His poor mother was sure that he had never for a moment forgotten the day they had fled their home when they had left their lands and castles to their enemies. And Jean had hardly thought of it in all those five years... How could he forget, how could he not think of it! Forgetting his homeland, his loved ones, his friends, his revenge for his father... His friends are preparing for an offensive, they are going to take back Orléans, crown the Dauphin as the rightful King of France, expel the invaders. Jeanne of Lorraine, an eighteen-year-old girl, is ready to take up her sword and fight to save France. And him? Jean, Duke of Alencon, cousin of the rightful heir, is sitting in a warm castle, like some maiden in marriage, and enjoying life with his enemy. Jean became unbearably ashamed and hurt. Ashamed that he had forgotten who he was, and what he should strive for, what he should think and dream about. And the pain...it hurts because he does love John. He loves his enemy no matter what, and hiding it from himself is pointless. If they lived in another world, in another time, where there was no enmity between their peoples, where there was no war, no hatred. In that world, they could have been happy... But, alas, they live here and now. God gave them such a life and that cannot be changed. Jean bit his lip painfully, perhaps God is sending him a test, to test his will and courage, whether he has the strength to do his duty, whether he is worthy of his father. Of course, he will cope with it, he will be able to do God's will. His mother wrote in a letter that the ransom was almost collected, it would not be long before he would be free. According to the laws of chivalry, John would be obliged to let him go. Jean knew that to raise such a huge sum, he and Jeanne had pawned all their jewels, his mother had sold the remaining lands to the English and Bretons. The crockery, the family silver also had to be sold. So would he not appreciate all the sacrifices his loved ones had made for him? Would he trade them for the embrace of the enemy? No, never! His father would never forgive him for that. There, in paradise, he expects his boy to pick up a sword and defend his homeland from invaders. Just as he once did. "These terrible years of captivity will end, my boy. Very soon you will be free. You will embrace me and Jeannette. Your cousin misses you very much, we will celebrate your return. Also, you'll meet Jeanne, the maiden from Lorraine. You'll like her, I'm sure of it. She is wonderful - friendly and kind, and at the same time, this girl has an unyielding will. You will be friends, and together you will win a victory for our king. You will drive the invaders from our land, you will succeed, believe me, son, as I do. Five terrible and long years will be forever behind you, you will forget about them like a nightmare. Be patient a little longer, may God give you strength and not leave you in his mercy. My heart is always with you." - Jean grinned bitterly, "The terrible years of captivity... yes... the worst." He must atone for his sin, and he will. Jean will become worthy of the title of Duke of Alencon. He will prove to everyone and his father that he is worthy.

\- Let him go, John. Let him go. You have to, - Anna didn't recognize her own voice. She had never before spoken to her husband in such a firm tone. And would John Bedford tolerate such a tone from a woman? But, now she felt no fear. Anna knew what she wanted to say to her husband,  
and she would say it. John must let Jean of Alencon go. The time had come. Yes, the ransom had not yet been paid in full, but Anne was sure that the time had come.  
The boy has grown up, he must do his duty - become a knight, take up his sword, and defend his homeland. He will go against them, he is their enemy, he always has been and always will be their enemy. She knew this. She also knew that her husband loved him and that Jean reciprocated. But also, Anne was well aware of what a knight's duty was to his homeland and the King. Jean, Duke of Alencon is a Frenchman, he loves his country, his king, and his family. He will defend them to the last drop of blood. Jean will never side with the enemy. A couple more years in captivity and he will hate John, her, and most importantly himself. As the years go by, Jean will not always be a handsome young man. Will John need him as much as he does now? Maybe. But, would he need himself? Anna felt that Jean would become boring, disgusting to himself. It would be better for John to remember him as beautiful and loving. As young as Jean had been when he brought him to their castle. As mature and handsome as he is now. Let him remember his smile, his eyes, his lips... Let him imprint the image of her beloved enemy forever because Anna knew that Jean would forever remain in the heart of her husband, that he would not forget him to the end of his days. No, she was not hurt, she did not compete for John with Jean, and she thanked God for her successful and happy marriage. But, now it was time to let go of their prisoner. They need to turn this page of life. The Handsome Duke has his own way, he must follow it. Jean will go after his goal, after his dream.  
\- To let go ?... - John set the glass of wine on the table and looked at his wife. Anna was ready to see hatred or anger in his eyes. But John's eyes didn't narrow with anger; they reflected only pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) I don't know exactly how much Bedford asked for Jean, different sources have different figures. That's one way of looking at it. But it is known that the amount was exorbitant.
> 
> 2) I could be wrong, but as far as I remember, they were knighted at the age of 21.
> 
> 3) The court of the dauphin Charles was located at that time in Chinon, in northern France.


	8. Think Twice

\- A happy day will soon come for you, Madame. Your son, the young Duke of Alencon, will regain his freedom and be able to fight for our dauphin...the King. The ransom is almost collected, isn't it? - Georges de La Tremouille, the favorite of the dauphin Charles, spoke in a sympathetic tone, but to Marie D'Alencon, he was somehow unpleasant. "A slippery, cunning schemer." - they said of him at court, but Charles favored La Tremouille and listened to his advice.  
\- The Lord is gracious, Monsieur Tremouille. Soon the ransom will be paid, and we shall see Jean again, after all these years... - Marie held back the tears that had been coming, -Five terrible years in the clutches of our enemy. My son did not deserve such a terrible fate! - a tear coursed down her cheek, a mother's heart unable to bear the sad fate of her only son.  
\- Oh, madam, please don't cry, - Tremouille held out his handkerchief to Marie, - God has tested your wonderful son, and I am sure that he has stood the test with honor. The years of captivity have not broken his spirit, the Duke of Alencon has Valois blood in him and he has borne his burden with true royal dignity.  
\- You are right, Monsieur Tremouille. My son is not easily broken, - Marie wiped away her tears and her gaze became hard, determined, - The last time he cried was when he was a boy when we were forced to flee from our lands, leaving them to our enemies. Since then, I have never seen tears in his eyes, only determination to avenge and defend our land from the hated invaders. My Jean is a worthy son of his father, he would have been proud of him, - Marie smiled sadly, thinking of her dead husband.  
\- And soon, we shall all be privileged to see that, madam. My respects, - Tremouille bowed courteously and hurried towards Charles, who had just entered the hall. It was his duty to be at the side of the dauphin in case he needed some urgent advice, and who was wiser to give it? Certainly not his mother-in-law, or that village upstart from Lorraine who hangs around the Dauphin and promises to lift the siege of Orléans. "Let's see how she does," Tremouille grinned to himself.

Alone, Marie was lost in her sad thoughts. She knew that in a little while God would bring her son back, that he would be free, that they would be a family again. But... how would her Jean return to them? Had his captivity undermined his health? Jean grew up a healthy and strong boy, rarely sick, but how was he treated in captivity? In his letters, he wrote that he did not need anything and lived in good conditions. Maybe he just didn't want to upset her and Jeannette? And if the conditions were really good, what had been done to his soul? Jean was taken prisoner when he was very young, too young... Did he have the fortitude to endure this trial and humiliation? His dead father would say it was a kick in the foot to his ego. That may be so. The suffering of the soul is stronger, scarier than the suffering of the body. Even if her son's body remained unharmed... Suddenly, Marie felt anxious and worried. Her Jean was a very handsome young man, his beauty had been admired since childhood, and at court, they called him the handsome young duke. Could his enemies have taken advantage of his youth and charm? Anxiety grew in her soul. Marie had heard that Bedford was cruel but pious; was he capable of this abominable, God-awful act? She suddenly realized that he was capable. The man was capable of anything. "Lord, have pity on my son!" - Marie prayed to herself, for she could share her fears and doubts with no one else.

\- Mother wrote that the girl had promised to lift the siege on Orléans, - Jean held out the letter. He hadn't kept his mother's letters from John, and there wasn't much to hide. Knowing that the letter might be opened and read, she did not write any unnecessary details about life at the dauphin's court.  
\- The girl... would lift the siege? - John raised an eyebrow in surprise, - I have heard of her, but it is most likely nonsense. A charlatan who wants to squeeze money out of your poor dauphin. Though I doubt she'll do it, he's a beggar himself.  
\- Don't talk of our king like that! You are a mean, nasty duke, - Jean got out of bed and poked John lightly in the chest with his fist.  
\- He is no king. You're defending your cousin when he wouldn't lift a finger to buy you out, - John grinned.  
\- He's helped as much as he can. The royal treasury is empty because a war with someone has devastated it, - Jean wrapped his arms around his neck.  
\- And with whom? - John pulled Jean to him and kissed him on the lips, biting down slightly. He knew that very soon he would never be able to kiss those lips again. Soon he and Jean would be parted forever. He must let him go. Annie had told the truth, the time had come. And even though the ransom had not yet been paid in full, John must let him go. Ann assured him that, afterward, Jean would hate him. Hate himself. But John himself can never hate his enemy. He can only love him. Only love. "If you love him, let him go." - Anne told him. Was she right? Either way, the laws of knightly honor require John Bedford to grant his prisoner, who has paid a ransom for himself, his freedom. Does a couple of months matter? To be honest, he didn't expect the money to be collected so soon. Five years flew by like the blink of an eye. "Should have demanded more for this treasure," the thought flashed. It seemed only yesterday he had bent over the wounded young man, on the battlefield, near Verneuil, looked into his beautiful eyes... And now, already he must release him. Money... John had no idea how much money and treasure could measure his pain. He was suddenly in unbearable pain like he'd never felt before. Not even when Hal died. Even then, his heart hadn't torn like this, the despair hadn't sucked him in like a quagmire. But maybe there was still a faint hope?  
\- Think twice. Please, - John pulled away from Jean's lips, taking his face in his hands and looking into his eyes.  
\- Are you asking? - Jean stared with undisguised surprise. John Lancaster, Duke of Bedford, Regent of France - asking.  
\- Yes, a man who has spent most of his life only giving orders is asking for you, fair duke, - John grinned bitterly.  
\- What am I to think about? - Jean asked, though he knew the answer himself.  
\- You know, - John ran his palm across his cheek, tracing the line of his lips.  
\- To stay with you? To be your prisoner forever? Is that what you want? - Jean lowered his head, not wanting him to see the longing in his eyes.  
\- That's what you want too. Don't kid yourself, sweetheart, - John lifted his face by his chin.  
\- You're right, John. I do want it. But not here. Not in this world. Here we are the enemy, and we always will be. I must do my duty to France, to the King, to my family, to my father, - Jean's voice trembled, - I am a man, I am a knight, - he realized - everything he said about his duty, John was well aware of himself, convincing himself of himself, rather than him.  
\- I know only one world, and in that world I love you, even though we are destined to be enemies. Stay with me, my treasure, - John took Jean's hand and brought it to his lips, - I fear for you, my boy. I feel you will have a hard time there. I will take care of you as I did before, for we have been good together all these years. I don't want money, I just want you. Ever since I saw you, all I've wanted was you.  
\- I'm not a boy anymore, John. And I know it won't be easy for me, but it's God's will. I can't stay with you. You know I can't, - Jean hugged John and covered his face with kisses, - Why must our people fight forever? Will it never end?  
\- It will end, sweetheart. Someday... - John lowered Jean gently onto the bed. In tonight's intimacy, he would put all his passion, all his tenderness, all his love. Let his boy remember it forever, for Jean of Alencon will always be his lovely boy to John. Even though he will go against him, defending his homeland and his king, avenging his father's death and his mother's suffering, his murdered countrymen, and even his warhorse. It is not just his right. It is his duty. 

\- The knight's code of honor prevents me from fighting until my ransom has been paid in full. But it will be paid soon, I promise. I will not remain indebted to you, - Jean tried not to look into the eyes of the enemy he was leaving forever. The enemy in whose captivity he had spent more than five years, whom he... loved, with whom he would never want to part. But now he must go. Leave for good. He has his own way, and if their paths ever cross again, it will only be on the battlefield.  
\- I trust you, my treasure, -John gently patted Jean's head, -look at me, my handsome Duke.  
\- What do you see? - Jean came close and looked intently into his eyes.  
\- Regret, sadness, and...duty. Let it be done.  
\- And what else? - Jean put his hands on John's shoulders.  
\- Love? - John pulled him to him, stroking his head, his back, kissing and slightly biting his earlobe. For the last time.  
\- I love you, John Bedford, - Jean confessed to his enemy for the first and last time.  
\- And I love you, Jean D'Alencon. And I always will, - John pressed his lips to him, enjoying a long parting kiss, - Farewell, my lord. Lady Bedford will see you off. All necessary arrangements have been made, - he withdrew with difficulty from the most desirable lips, which he would never have to kiss again.  
\- Goodbye, Your Grace, - Jean turned around and left forever the man he wished he had stayed with for the rest of his days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songfiction for Chapter: Celine Dion Think Twice https://ruv.hotmo.org/song/47961589


End file.
